Another Secret to Keep BETA
by Devil Mushroom
Summary: A beginning to a possibly longer fanfic: Logos and Leblanc get drunk and things start to happen, need I say more ;


AN:

Right, first of all HI! Sorry it's been ages.

Secondly I don't know what to do with this. I've been writing it since hmmm late 2008 and just don't know whether to finish it or not.

Ermm basically it's an R-rated Legos fanfic..yep. Now I started writing this on the pretence that Hell it's what all the people who love the Legos pairing want and it will nicely combat those weird graphic Yaoi ones here (OrmixLogos? EWWWW). However whenever I actually try and write it I just cringe, I just don't think I'm good at porno haha. Also a lot of FFX-2 fanfic writers don't really hang here anymore.

So this is the first part, before any of the raunchy stuff, should I continue it? Should I leave it?

(BTW it hasn't actually been proof read yet ;])

* * *

Another red, sticky blot was now seeping into the mauve rug. Logos gave his tilted wine glass a guilty look but then shrugged and groped clumsily at the bottle on the table, before gripping its skinny neck and sloshing the contents messily into the goblet, causing even more spots to manifest onto the carpet.

'Ah shit.' He muttered plonking the bottle back on the table and leaning over the armrest of his chair to get a closer look at his wasted wine.

Leblanc, clad in a nightgown, sat cross legged on her bed with her own cup hovering at her lips, simply burst into giggles, snorting every now and again. This caused her to rock slightly, spilling her own beverage onto the blankets to which she giggled even more manically.

The table and dresser were shamefully littered with bottles of: wine, mead, sake, vodka and whatever else Logos and Ormi had managed to get their hands on from the kitchen's wine rack. It was a well worthy mission however since the events of the past few days had been one that merited at least a mild celebration. After much physical, mental and emotional abuse, tears and tantrums, scars and bruises the pair had succeeded in penetrating Leblanc's confined bubble of misery and lament and had finally persuaded her to come out of her room and reassemble herself. She could not go on crying about Nooj's disappearance forever. Logos originally had believed he had cracked it when he returned his boss home after she ran off in search of her lover but no, unfortunately this was not the case and the next morning she was more depressed than ever before.

Leblanc was still very sensitive and delicate to certain topics of conversation but it was still a vast improvement compared to the soaked, red faced mask she had worn throughout the past weeks. To help Leblanc's usual high-spirited-ways return Logos and Ormi had proposed a little drink, 'little' being the juxtaposing word here. It was now nearly two in the morning and the trio had been drinking since seven the prior evening. Ormi, who had never been one for holding his drink particularly well, had already retired that evening after drifting into a light coma once he'd glugged his fourth bottle of ale.

This now left just an inebriated Logos and a giddy and extremely playful Leblanc who seemed to be pushing the boundaries of the activity.

"You're such a klutz!" She squealed.

Logos, haphazardly, brought himself back to sitting position and wiped a hand over his heated brow and smiled groggily.

"Um! I-I-I, I need some more." She shook her empty glass at him.

He took up the wine bottle again.

"No no!" She hiccoughed, "I want that one, there."

She pointed towards the collection of bottles but her arm was unsteady and appeared to sway about in a small circular motion.

"W-what, what 'is one?" He gurgled placing an ungainly finger on another of the bottles.

"No! That one there, to the, erm, the erm…the…right."

Logos gave his own little hiccup.

"What? The whiskey?"

"Yes" she chirruped, spreading the front of her body over the mattress and allowing the arm with the cup to lull forward, "I want some lovely whiskey."

He had to prepare himself for a moment before standing and despite this, when he did, he toppled and fell half way back into the chair. Regaining himself he shuffled inelegantly towards her. He placed one of his ungloved hands on one of the end bedposts to steady himself and with as much grace as he could possibly muster poured her a heavy measurement of the ripe liquid. The crisp edge of her glass was a rich brown colour, the fluid teetering within it's boarders until she brought it to her mouth and once again spilt a considerable amount. Logos tottered back to his chair and collapsed into it.

He took a healthy gulp from his glass, gazing through the blurry, fingerprinted stained side. He smirked, Leblanc was still in her nightgown, still on her front, still inhaling massive amounts of forbidden nectar and still giggling merrily with her white legs up in the air and shapely feet bobbing up and down. Logos was still in marvelling at the fact that Leblanc still hadn't told him to go away, usually, even if they were enjoying a relaxing drink, she'd announce that she was going to change and that in her own subtle woman's tongue meant, 'leave', if he or anyone else didn't leave, they were punished. Tonight she had gone to the bathroom to change and on her way back out to her bedroom she had spied his form through the silk curtains, that veiled the short corridor to the door of her chamber, and snatching up a bottle of some other liquor cried out at him to stay and enjoy another.

All of a sudden, in one swift movement, as she downed those last sweet droplets, Leblanc got back up to her knees and then fell back and landed, spread, facing upwards to the gossamer veil of her bed. She sighed heavily and something about that low, satisfied breathe passing her lips caused Logos to cross his legs.

"This," she paused to release a small burp, "this is really nice. I've been a bit, um, lonely, ya, you know, you know, locshked in a room for days and days and days and days…" she trailed.

She remained still for a few minutes in which Logos refilled his glass, this time with the whiskey also, and slunk a little lower in his chair.

"Jusch," she continued sleepily, "with no Noojie, I jusch jusch didn't see the point. I misch him coming to see me and, and…" she trailed off again.

It seemed she'd finally realised the comical process of a belch, gripping her sides and quaking she began to giggle and hoot hysterically again. She rolled from side to side finally settling on her right and then curled up into a ball still jittering from the amusement of a simple bodily function. This ball tightened as she brought her knees up to her face. Logos relaxed back a little further, the curve from his neck to his head now resting on the top rim of the chair back, smirking to himself and admiring the way in which that rose tinted silk clasped around her buttocks.

She sighed again, and as before, made it her cue to reposition herself in a great flurry. She came back up to a sitting position, her smooth thighs and carves coiled in front of her. She flung her head sideways to look at him, allowing her matted blonde hair to lope over the right side of her face. She gazed at him from under her fringe.

"I…" she spluttered, blowing her hair and then sifting it lazily out the way with her fingers, the left strap of her nightgown drooped off her shoulder. "It's-it's nice to have a man around you know, hah, well you-you wouldn't know cos you are a man." She giggled foolishly. "But, well, well, well well well, when you _are_ a woman, you like to feel protected and schecure. You..feel delicate sometimes..and…I want another one."

Her goblet was shunted forwards again. In turn Logos, who had been very deep within his thoughts, started and bumbled up with such speed and accuracy he made himself feel slightly nauseas. He skidded towards her and washed her cup full again with rich fluid.

"Thanksch" she slurred, taking a gulp before he'd properly finished pouring. "Hrrm, yesh, er, huh..yes, yes, so you feel delicate and," she cocked her head upwards towards his, "sensitive."

Throughout Leblanc's last few minutes of banter Logos hadn't listened in the slightest. Not through lack of caring, of course not, but his alcohol levels had peaked somewhat and seemed to have actually blocked his ears and he was trying to end his mind numbing silence by making them pop. He swallowed again. He'd noted that his boss was talking but his eyes were not so much directed to her face, instead they had traced up from her buttocks to her robust, powerful and yet elegant thighs, then onto that peaking curved shoulder that shimmered softly against the reflection of her wine glass. Now they were concentrating quite particularly on one part of her body, as she had forced her arm forward at him again, demanding another drink, the strap had swung lower, as did the front of her dress. Logos was now admiring the flowing yet evidently bulging bow of her bosom. It seemed to sway back and forwards with her sweet breathes and in his intoxicated state he had to physically squeeze the bedpost he was now propped up against, to fight back the urge to rip her garment down to view the cheeky, pink, bud-like treasures that hid but an inch below.

He swallowed again, much harder than before. His ear popped.

"Ah shit!"

Leblanc glared at him.

"What? You-ya don't believe me? Oooh you men you're all the same!"

Without warning whatsoever Leblanc's glass was shot across the room and into the dresser.

"No, no! It was my ear, ff-frucking thing popped."

She rolled her droopy head back to him and gave him a look reminiscent of a small wounded animal. She pouted.

"Aw, you poor thing."

Logos held his throbbing ear with one hand, desperately trying not to spill his 'medicine', which was firmly clasped in the other.

"Here let me see." She soothed.

"No, it's fine, really, really, it's….fi-."

He had noticed his hearing had resumed, and with it noticed Leblanc's bizarre motherly tone, and he had also noticed she was now knelt up so she was almost level with him, with one hand on his chest and another on the side of his head. He now deeply regretted missing the last section of the conversation. She tugged the front of his shirt playfully.

"Come, sit down, let me see."

"I-."

With absolutely no direct intent he fell onto the bed. He propped himself onto his elbows so he was in a half sitting and half laying position.

"Here," she whispered, pulling him closer and tracing the folds of his ear with the tips of her dainty fingers.

Logos found that even trying to mentally describe to himself how confused and awkward he felt was a wasted effort. Instead he decided these next few moments were better spent consuming the feathery brushes of skin and gentle nips of nail against his earlobe. The warmth of her breathe flowing into his ear eased and yet excited him; it also terrified him to find she was in reality that close to him. He smirked.

"Oh my!"

"What?" He slurred.

"Look! It's all..oh my God!"

"What? What?"

"Well by the looks of things you are,"

That light terror he'd felt a few seconds earlier now manifested on his face.

"a…great big wimp, love!" She snorted, punching him in the shoulder and bursting into an explosion of giggles.

Logos released a small faux chuckle, somewhat relieved but more disappointed. Leblanc waggled her hands playfully and clumsily as she continued to laugh, tears of merriment rolling down her rosy cheeks. Logos, feeling a bit deceived to say the least, bit his lip and looked away with a somewhat sad expression, debating whether he could even physically get up to retrieve another beverage.

Suddenly something landed on his stomach, something round and orb-like. Slowly he turned, to see a mop of messy blonde hair. It sighed.

"Hmmm, but yesh, ah I miss having him around, I miss having a man around. When you run something like this business, you have to be strong and in charge and independent and whatever. People, people think you don't need protection but you do. You see love," She turned over so her hands were not settled on his mid-section and her head was facing his, "women don't like to admit it but we're not as strong as men, least physically, it's unfortunate but we, we can't really take care of ourselves entirely. Why should I be any different?" She nestled her head back down again. "I need someone to protect me too."

She remained quiet for a few moments apart from a light yawn. He was just left to freely gaze at her; the warmth of her being on him was divine.

She giggled softly and cheekily.

"Heh, erm, this is a little embarrassing really," she whispered, gripping at the fabric at his chest again and pulling herself closer. Logos' eyes widened. "I'm actually quite enjoy being submissive, hehe, in the bedroom."

He felt his eyes would have widened even more if not for his unfortunate squint. Though if his gaze wasn't going to grow, something else certainly was. A bead of sweat trickled down his brow and he could feel his heart ramming against his rib cage; how was he possibly going to hide this? He felt his body freeze, he couldn't move!

"Hmm, you know," she lulled, "you're quite solid you know."

Logos found his brain on red alert, a huge ugly neon sign inside his head screaming, 'oh god she's noticed!'

She ran those smooth fingers down his chest.

"I always thought you'd be really skinny, heh, actually quite muscly."

A sort of red, warm, magma like substance had been rising within Logos' body, from just below his naval up his stomach and chest. It was now bubbling violently in his neck, scorching the walls of his sticky throat and clotting. He now felt hot and weak; he needed to, let off some steam.

With great caution, as not to scare this lovely creature away, he left his arm to hang off the side off the bed and released his glass, not enough for it to shatter, but so it would just drop to the marble floor around her bed with a musical 'ching'. As this note oscillated round the room, he returned his hang and placed it, as gracefully as was possible in his drunken stat, within her golden locks. His other hand, had slithered under so his palm was now against her silky cheek and, slightly pressing down, he pulled her form upwards so her ear laid against his thumping chest.

Leblanc's arms were akimbo above her head but now just noticing she was higher up she stretched them out slightly and folded her hands about Logos' shoulders. Her own chest began to rise with an in take of breath and taking this as a cue he quickly but softly placed his right hand on her side so he could feel the flow of her body as she sighed. This sigh was interrupted by a light, child-like hiccup and another devious giggled.

"Do you," Logos muttered, "do you still feel drunk?"

"Hmm?" The head on his chest replied, "yes, slightly, I like it though. Why do you-you not?"

"No."

He swallowed hard.

"I feel, something else."


End file.
